You exit the hedge maze and enter a forest out of a fairy tale. Ancient trees of varying sizes surround you, some absolutely gargantuan in scale. The forest is dark, and you fail to see the sky or even the tops of the tallest trees, though it bothers you little. Mist creeps along the ground and among the boughs.
The darkness and the damp, cool air invigorate you. You pause, taking in the sounds of various critters further out in the forest. In the dim light, you spy a faint glow further down the path. Oddly, this light seems inviting to you rather than oppressive like the sunlight in the maze.
Your soft, stocking-like feet glide along the path, and after a few short minutes of walking the light glows as you enter a clearing, and you find your breath taken away as you enter a glade. In its center sits a large pond, fed by a small stream.
You stare, ignoring a wave of tingles as another pleasurable spasm wracks your pelvis. You shudder slightly, as your living petticoats grow denser and fuller, the feeling of anticipation increasing.
The mists above seem to shift before parting slightly, and moonlight shines down into the glade. It reflects off the dark water of the pool and casts an unearthly glow in the clearing. You feel some of it wash over you and you shudder appreciatively. Your pure white, velvety skin and the fuzzy spots on your dark cap and dress seem to glow with their own pale light for a moment before fading.
All too soon, the pleasurable sensations die, as the moonlight recedes in scope but intensifies on one spot not far from the edge of the pond. The single beam of moonlight intensifies on dark, loamy soil and you bite your lip at the sight.
You begin walking over, the pleasure beginning to fill you yet again. You push through it, working hard to not stumble as your legs extend in length once more, lifting you up several inches.
Arriving at the illuminated spot, you throw caution to the wind and step into the light and onto the soft soil. You moan loudly as the light seeps into your being, and pleasure begins welling up inside you.
Your white, velvety feet wriggle against the soil, and you scarcely notice as they sink into the earth. You rub your legs together, loving the sensation of your silky thighs and calves sliding along each other. Your feet feel strange yet wonderful, like you were getting the best footrub of your life even as they seemed to push deeper and deeper into the ground.
You felt your arches touch each other and stick, and you found your legs sticking to one another as the soft flesh merges, starting at your feet and ankles and working its way up your thighs. They become one stalk, though still retain the impression of lissome legs bound tightly together.
“MMmmmm yes…” you moan, soaking up more and more of the light. You gaze upward, casting loving eyes through the gap in the mists at the full moon above. Its beauty is the last thing you see as the black, spotted mushroom cap that had become part of your head extends, growing larger and overtaking your eyes, darkening the world.
You cared not as it occurred, as you still felt the embrace of moonlight on your form. The soft, pale light filled you, your own white spots and flesh glowing palely in return. Your exposed nipples tingle hotly, your firm breasts pulsing slightly. A short moan emanates from your mouth as a pale fluid begins to steadily drip from them.
The pleasure grew and grew, far past that of the short spasms from earlier, almost overwhelming you with its energy.
You feel the tension in the fleshy petticoats again, and they begin to extend outward and upward, lifting the dark skirt of your living mushroom dress. Soft lines of your new lamella showing, gravid with spores.
All the pleasure shooting through your being coalesces here, building and building until it can be held back no more. Your armless form trembles, and you throw your head back and moan loudly lustily as a glowing cloud of spores explodes from the folds. It spreads throughout the glade, shimmering and twinkling across the water of the pond. The streams from your nipples gush greatly for a few moments before slowing back down to the barest trickle.
A greater effluence is made present below, as your surviving folds expel copious fluid down your new stalk. You shudder and writhe in place for a good few minutes before the feelings die down, leaving you dazed and panting heavily.
Despite no longer having visible eyes, awareness of the glade and the life in it begins to come to you. It expands as black inkcap mushrooms of various sizes begin to rise from where the spores landed. You feel your essence pour into them as well, a network of mushrooms.
The moonlight fades as the mists close in again, but your own light does not dim. The glade remains comfortably alight as you and your newly grown flock continue to emanate your pale, soft glow.
You are still breathing heavily as you continue to come down from the release of your spores. The lamella petticoats flatten and recede somewhat, letting your skirt fall softly about your thighs again.
You moan quietly through your black lips, a satisfied smirk never leaving them as moaning shifts to humming and a haunting ethereal tune echoes about the glade, scarcely louder than a whisper, yet carrying far throughout the woods. You begin to drift off into a pleasurable slumber, still humming softly in your sleep. You are content with the knowledge that your glade is full of life and soft light, and your song an invite to those seeking a place of comfort, refuge, sustenance, and perhaps…pleasure.